Page 2 of Perfectly Wedded

I sigh, guilt bubbling up.

Sloan

No, just the usual... you know, since the accident. I’ll fill you in later.

Jaz

Does Brax know Vale is in Vegas?

My stomach knots. I forgot about problem three—Vale’s brother is my sister’s husband. This problem of mine has now become a family affair.

Sloan

How should I know? We’ll talk when I get home. Must get coffee first.

Jaz

I can’t wait that long!!!

My phone buzzes in my hand repeatedly. Jaz is trying to call me.

I grab my stilettos and sling them over my shoulder before glancing down at my black nightie. I can’t wear this out. But I also can’t stay and risk waking up Vale with the noise. And my sister’s in no mood to let me off the hook.

Besides, this is Vegas, and no one will bat an eye if I wear a nightgown like a dress. Anything goes in this town, and I meananything.

I tiptoe across the suite, grabbing my wallet on the way out.

A sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Where are you going?”

I wheel around to face Vale, my face flaring with heat.

He’s sitting up in bed, the sharp outlines of his bare muscles reminding me that he’s more gorgeous than any man should be. His long waves are mussed up just enough to be sexy. Everything in me begs to crawl back into bed next to him, but if I did, I’d probably be electrocuted by all that hotness.

“I’m just heading out for a walk,” I say, linking my hands behind my back.

“In your nightgown?” he asks with a frown.

I’m so busted.

I glance down at my sleepwear and paste on a smile that feels as fake as the Vegas strip. “Couldn’t it pass for a dress?”

He looks it over, and something heats in his gaze before hiseyes snap shut, like a wet blanket over a flame. “I can’t let you go out like that.”

“Vale, it’s Vegas. No one will bat an eye.” I motion at the door with my thumb. “I was grabbing coffee. You want some?”

“Let me make you a cup,” he says, springing out of bed toward the fancy coffeemaker.

For the first time, I see that he’s wearing clothes—joggers that show off his narrow waist and hips. I swear the man could look good in a plastic shopping bag. I let out a puff of air, relieved that he isn’t wearing less. Because if he were, I’d die right here on the spot.

I hold up my hand to stop him. “No offense, but I want a latte.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” he says.

“I was hoping to go alone.”

Vale’s lips tighten, but he doesn’t argue.

I hate letting him down, but right now, I need to leave and sort through my memory of last night. For some reason, Vale feltobligatedto sleep next to me and I want to know why.

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